Alice Insanity
by she who laughs
Summary: We've all heard the classic tale 'Alice in Wonderland.' But do we know what happens fifty years later, when Alice awakens in a mental hospital, determined to get out and find the White Rabbit?
1. Back from Wonderland

((Disclaimer: I don't own Alice, obviously, although at this time I do own the other characters. Next chapter, I'll probably add more, but this one's going to be sort of a prologue.))

"_Alice..."_

She felt a bit woozy in the head, just as she had only moments ago. It had soared away as an eagle for a moment, but soon it came back.

"_Alice..."_

Who was trying to speak to her? Did she know them? Alice didn't remember meeting any new people recently, and she was quite certain that her mother was not calling to her. She hadn't seen her mother in... well, she couldn't remember how long. But she supposed it would've been a very long time.

"_Alice!"_

She shook her head, finally opening her eyes. Where was she? A room shielded in yellow, foam on the walls. Alice was seated in a scarlet seat with a backrest, and a man in a white uniform sat informatively in front of her. "I'm sorry... who are you?" Alice asked, her eyebrows narrowed unsurely. The last thing she'd remembered was chasing after some dratted rabbit and getting into more trouble than she had in ages.

But how funny! That was the _only _thing she could remember. Nothing before, apart from well-known facts about herself – like 'I live in England,' or 'My name is Alice.' She continued to stare blankly at the man, her lips parted only slightly, through which hole she was breathing.

"I am Doctor Welling," the man told her, a soft smile upon his face. Alice didn't know whether or not to trust this man, for the last time she'd tried trusting anyone, everything had gone wrong. "And you're in a mental hospital."

Alice thought to herself. Mental? Whatever was that? She remembered it being in her vocabulary at primary school, but the definition was oblivious to her at the moment. Mental... mental... what did it mean? "I don't understand," Alice said slowly, her words slipping out one by one.

The doctor nodded sadly, his head tilted low. "I know, Alice," he reassured her, obviously trying to make her feel somewhat better. "I know."

Suddenly, the door to the room opened, and a nurse came in, whispering some things to Doctor Welling that Alice could faintly understand, making out a few words.

"The newest reports have come in, Doctor. Our cameras have traced the patient's moods, and she was..." That was where it was cut off, and Alice could hear no more. The doctor's face became pale, and he nodded to the nurse with understanding. What was going on?

The nurse, her blanch apron matching almost perfectly with her platinum blonde hair, made her way out of the room. Alice waved to her giddily before turning to look at her palms. They were wrinkled, like how they'd gotten when she used to go swimming for too long. She wondered about this, her eyebrows narrowed. "Did I take a bath?" Alice asked the doctor, referring to her fingers.

Doctor Welling hesitated for a moment, staring at Alice in her confusion. He'd always hated to deal with patients like this. Ones that had forgotten their identity, forgotten their past. It really gave him the creeps.

"You," he started, staring her in the eye. "Are sixty-eight years old. You've lived in a mental hospital for the past fifty-five years."

Alice blinked once, twice, three times. "No, I-I'm eleven."

Doctor Welling shook his head, watching the elderly woman staring at the door, as if she were planning to run. Hearing about this lady's disorder of screaming in the middle of the night for five minutes at a time, it didn't seem unlikely. Alice had apparently been heard talking about 'white rabbits' and 'the Queen of Hearts.' Why on Earth was this girl talking about card games? And what made that card so special?

He hadn't ever heard her full story. She'd been found on the edge of the street, age thirteen, before he was born. Welling was only fifty-two, after all, and apparently Alice had switched mental hospitals more than once. "I-I have to go."

Alice stopped him, her eyes flashing. "No! You can't leave me!" Welling watched in horror as the woman kneeled before him, tugging on his ankles. "I need to find the rabbit... And the Mad Hatter... I need to find them... Everyone..."

Welling didn't know what to do anymore. He wasn't used to working with patients of this kind, and he wasn't sure how he'd make it out of here without injury. So far, this girl seemed to be harmless, but from the stories he'd heard about her...

"Help me!" Alice yelled as Welling attempted to stand up and shake her up. He was screaming to the intercom, even though it wasn't turned on.

"Nurses! Security! Anyone! Come to Room 218 immediately! This is an _emergency!_" Welling shouted, fear in his eyes. And then... it happened.

Alice screamed.

It was the most high-pitched and eerie scream that Doctor Welling had ever heard, and for a moment, he lost his hearing. It was Alice's dire scream for help.

((Read and review, but no flames please.))


	2. Subsequential Fear

Pacing his room, Dr. Richard Welling didn't know if he'd been daydreaming for the past few hours or if that patient of his was really alive, existing, remaining at his own mental institution. She hadn't even come with a last name, and the woman was as grave as a ghost. She'd stared at him with those dark gray-blue eyes so hard and helplessly that Welling was starting to wonder if his imagination really _had _taken hold of him. Richard was usually a well-controlled man, and he wouldn't allow himself to sleep at work. But this woman... Alice. Yes, he believed that was her name.

His mind went back to Nurse Judy's entrance. Her face was more pale than he'd seen it in ages, having run the hospital for twenty-two years. He'd noted from the start that something was bothering the woman, and her eyes kept traveling to Alice in fear. At the time, Richard hadn't suspected anything, just that Judy had been having a bad day. It happened to everyone.

And then he'd heard the words.

""The newest reports have come in, Doctor. Our cameras have traced the patient's moods, and she was..." Judy's voice quivered as she tried to obtain a professional tone. Richard stared at her, waiting for an answer, watching her eyes still traveling from the Doctor to the elderly woman sitting near them. Her voice toned down to a whisper as Richard's eyebrows narrowed. "She was _screaming, _Doctor. Alice... she screamed in the m-middle of the night, over and over, as if she were being tortured..."

Richard's face turned pale. Sure, patients here had been different, but this one... it reminded him of a fairy tale. She seemed so sure of herself to be 'eleven years old,' and Richard had hardly the heart to tell her the truth. _You're insane, Alice. _Something had happened to her as a young child, something that had possessed her mind for over fifty years...

His thoughts returned to the conversation between himself and Judy.

"Certainly," he recalled himself saying. "There's a reasonable explanation? Was she abused before she came here?"

The nurse swallowed and shook her head, releasing a quake of fear inside of Richard's stomach. "That's what we don't understand, Doctor... She screams about nonsense... Things that make no sense even vaguely... Certainly not abuse, Doctor..." She paused, taking a deep breath. "These are things from her childhood that won't leave her alone."

That was when his fear had risen. Richard came back to his present self, still pacing the beige-decorated room. There was a sofa on one end, his bed on the other, and a platinum thirty-two inch television in the furthest corner. Always having been a tidy man, the doctor preferred things _his _way. One of the reasons he hadn't married.

He had to admit, however, being alone was nothing special. He got to be quite lonely sometimes late at night, and Richard couldn't help but wonder if there was someone out there for _him. _

A knock on the door. Who would be coming this late at night? He glanced over at the clock. 12:38 AM. Cautiously (for he'd always been careful), Richard made his way through his empty farmhouse and over to the scarlet door. He'd always loved the color. Some of his friends at work told him that he must've been gay to pick that, but in truth, Richard wasn't even sure of his sexuality at all. He hadn't been on a date in ages.

Opening the door, he was taken aback to see none other than Judy Wright, the nurse that had come in just that afternoon. Why was she here? She rarely spoke to him at all, and when she did, it was always work-related. Now she was at his doorstep, quivering with fear, her short fiery red hair shaking with the rest of her body. Always having been a scared woman, Richard didn't blame her, after the things that had happened that day...

"Pardon, Doctor, I'm so sorry for bothering you—"She tried, but Richard only shook his head.

"_Please Judy, _call me Richard. We've worked together for over twenty years, after all," he smiled, trying to calm her, although inside his heart was racing as well. "What have you come to tell me? Oh please, come inside."

Opening the door for the woman and welcoming her inside, Judy stepped in, shivering – even though she was wearing a heavily padded coat. "Th-thank you so much, Doctor – I mean, Richard." She blushed slightly, and Richard couldn't help but smile.

"Would you like anything to drink? Tea? Coffee? I have the most brilliant wine garden, if I do say so myself," Richard added, a conservative grin on his face. Conservative was his best trait, and he liked to keep things that way. Living on a wine garden benefited him.

Judy hesitated and finally piped up again. Her voice was squeaky, high-pitched, and sounded more like a squeal than a human vocal chord. Having mastered in vocal arts, Richard only wondered what range she possessed. "Y-yes, tea sounds fine," she said, and Richard frowned.

"No wine?" He asked, plastering a fake pout on his face. He'd always been playful, even if it was more his profession to remain serious. Richard had always been good with kids, too.

"No, no thank you... Tea will be fine."

"Oh, okay, I'll be right back then."

Richard walked over to the kitchen, wearing a casual blue sweater and dark jeans. Turning on the faucet, he wondered what Judy could possibly be here for. His mind traveled to the one possible conclusion – Alice. She was her nurse, after all. Richard prepared himself for more news, but what happened next was hardly what he'd expected.

Coming back into the room with hot tea, Richard took a seat next to Judy, himself drinking his famed wine. His expression changed from happy to rather expectant, and he looked at Judy with understanding. "So, tell me why you've come," he said to her, a serious look on his face now. No doubt Alice had been doing something even more strange than before, something more grave and fearful.

Judy cleared her throat and sat up, swallowing. Richard noted that she had a defined Adam's apple, much like a girl he had dated when he was teaching chorus at one of the high schools. He couldn't remember her name, but her voice was wonderful, seeing as she'd been one of his students...

"It's about Alice," she started, her eyes fearful and aware. Richard only nodded. Exactly what he'd expected. The next, however, was certainly not. "She wants to see you immediately."

Richard's eyebrows narrowed. Why on Earth would a seventy year-old woman want to see him, one that couldn't even remember her own last name? "Wh-why?" He'd tried to cover up his startled nature, but it was quite difficult. "What's bothering her?"

The redhead shrugged. "I don't know, Doctor. She's been nagging at me all night... r-requesting to see you. Richard Welling, she'd said loud and clear. _She knew who you were."_ Richard's face went pale. He had told her his last name – or at least, so he remembered – but his first? Patients didn't have access to staff files, and his name tag only showed his initial...

How was this possible?!


End file.
